Stranger
by RyansKid
Summary: I'm a mad, mad man. No I'm not a mad man.
1. Chapter 1

"When people are picking houses they look at so many different things. The neighborhood, the schools, the size, the view. But when I look at houses…well I pick them for entirely different reasons."

"I…I don't understand. God…what's wrong with you? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US!"

What an interesting question. No one had ever asked me that before. I let the axe slip down to the floor and put my weight on it, slouching to one side. In front of me sat a man, his wife, and their two children. They were bound and gagged, the husband unconscious.

I had been walking around that neighborhood for two weeks. Every day I would get off the train and take the same route around the suburb in order to give any one paying attention the idea that I was just your average commuter.

What first caught my attention to the house was the color. Yellow. What an obnoxious color for a home. The husband drove a sports car to Gotham every morning, and his wife rolled about in an SUV that was far too big considering she only had two children. Then there was that fucking dog. A golden retriever. It would run to and fro, playing fetch with the children, one boy and one girl.

There little cookie cutter life was enough to make me sick. Is that cliché? I don't want anyone to think I'm just some young, pissed off twenty something or is against conformity. I mean my God, that is what my childhood was like down to the very last detail.

I got off the train that evening, this time with a duffel bag to hide my equipment. The house was on the very end of a long street, backed up to the woods. Obviously that worked to my advantage. I watched them eat dinner, play a board game, and then settle in to watch television.

I killed that fucking dog first. I broke its neck like a toothpick, and then dragged it back into the woods.

"Roger? ROGER? Hey boy where are you?"

The husband called from the back porch. It didn't take long for me to size him up. He was about six foot two, two hundred and twenty pounds, he didn't look like he was much of a fighter. As he went back inside, cutting the porch light out, I decided to take a seat on the children's swing set. I could see the wife washing dishes inside. I decided it was time to start my little game.

I guess I should explain it a bit more in depth. I like to be inside the house as long as possible before I kill them. I like it when they know I'm coming, when they know I'm there. To that end I through the swing set over and moved back into the woods. I saw the wife jump and call to her husband, who in turn opened the back door and looked outside.

"Roger? That you boy?"

He went back inside. God it's so much fun to watch these people. From the time we're young we are taught to tell ourselves that there isn't anything to fear. That there isn't anything out there in the darkness. But it isn't always true.

After that I went back around the side of the house to the living room window. The husband and wife were talking to each other in the kitchen, they already looked scared. I take some of the dog's blood and write hello on the window a few times before moving towards the front door. I hear the woman scream before I even get there.

I reach up and unscrew the light on the front porch before knocking on the door. I hear someone on their way down the hall. I press all my weight up against the door on the off chance they open it. But they don't.

"H-hello? Who's there?"

I wait a moment before answering. I want to make sure they can hear me through the door. I finally feel the woman press her weight back up against the door.

"You're going to die."

I'm on top of the porch's overhang before the husband is out the door. He stumbles out and looks around like he is in some kind of control. It would be so easy to reach down and pull him up right now. But I force the window open instead.

I walk softly through the children's room. They were sleeping so peacefully. I was gentle with them. I picked them up one at a time and bound them with plastic ties and gagged them. They didn't even wake up.

When I went downstairs I the wife was standing in the kitchen smoking a cigarette. I guess her husband was still outside. I watched her from the dark hallway for a little while. She was attractive in a suburban housewife sort of way. She looked different from regular Gotham City residents. But I wasn't interested in her, at least not in the way you would think.

I heard the man coming back inside so I slipped into a side room and climbed back outside through a window. I cut the phone lines on the way to the backyard. It was time to end the game.

I grabbed my axe out of the bag and strolled to the front of the house. I heard the two of them talking near the front door.

"Listen to me Liv, I'll get the kids ok. I'm going to open the door and I want you to run to the neighbors and call the police. Can you do that?"

"Y-y-yes. God Billy I'm scared."

"It'll be ok baby. Now…one…two…"

I slammed the axe into the front door, splintering it in two. The woman screams and retreats back to the kitchen. I strike the door again before kicking it in and crawling through. The husband had grabbed a knife. He takes a swipe at me but misses. He rushed at me, but I caught him hard on the face with the 

butt end of the axe. I picked his knife up and gave him a hard kick to the forehead before going after his wife.

She had scrambled out back and was crawling towards the front yard. I grabbed her by the hair and plunged the knife into her shoulder. I drag her back inside and bound her and the husband up and toss them on the couch, then I go upstairs and grab the children.

"I SAID WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US!"

The woman's shouts brought me back to reality. I straightened up and wrapped my hands back around the axe.

"Because you were home."

The husband was starting to come to and I was having much more fun with his wife so I decided to get rid of him.

"Oh good, you're awake."

I threw the wife and children off of the couch. I drew the axe back and with one swing cut his head off. Messy business.

I kick the wife in the face to stop her screaming. I kneel down and try to get the children to stop crying, but it doesn't work. She must have seen this as some sort of sympathy.

"Please…please let them go. Do whatever you want to me, you can have me…I won't fight. But for the love of God, please let them go."

I considered it, I really did consider her offer for a moment. They were children after all, I had never killed children at that point in time. They had seen my face, my white canvas mask covered it. I knelt down and cut the ties around the little girl's wrist.

"Oh thank you, thank you. Oh God thank…"

As the little girl walked away I had a change of heart. I picked her up and cracked her head against the fire place. The blood got all over my suit, I wouldn't be able to wear it on Monday.

I felt the wife run into me, but her heart wasn't in it. I had just smashed it and it was currently dripping down the bricks of the fireplace. I pushed her down onto the couch and picked the knife up. I dragged it across her throat. I cut deeper than I meant to, I had slit her windpipe. She struggled to breath before finally bleeding out.

I looked down to find the boy but he had run off, probably through the front door. I didn't even bother going after him. Instead I went back into the woods and changed my clothes, then calmly walked back to the train station. About the time it started heading back towards Gotham City I saw the lights and heard the police sirens wailing.

The whole way home I wondered if they would finally connect what I had just done with the other three murders I had committed. My last though before dosing off was of buying a Gotham Times the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Well sure enough, the next morning what I had done was all over the front page. I picked up the Gotham Times and hailed a cab to take me to my job across the city. As I sat in the gridlock that always occurs right where the Bowery meets Midtown I read the papers take on what had happened.

It started out very boring. Horrifying. Seemingly inhuman. What kind of a monster could do this? Everything you would expect to be found in a news story reporting a triple homicide in the suburbs.

But halfway through the story there were quotes from a Lieutenant James Gordon. I didn't know who this Gordon was, but what he said was…startling I suppose. He said that the cut on the husband's body was so clean that whoever did it had to be of considerable height and strength. The fact that no one noticed anything indicated the killer blended in well out in the suburbs, meaning he looked like your everyday commuter.

The reporter asked some strange questions as well. Something about a Bat-man. I had just been transferred over from the New Jersey office so I wasn't entirely familiar with everything that had gone on in Gotham the last year or so.

"Excuse me, what is a Bat-man?"

The fat cabbie turned around, his breath reeking of greasy fast food despite it being seven in the morning. He looked at me with contempt. Like he was the only person who ever had to drive a cab and it was something I could never understand.

"You dense there buddy? Batman is a hero. Protects us regular folks. I don't see nobody givin two shits about the Narrows. Nobody but the Batman. You suits, you don't know what its like to have to look out for yourself you know."

Situations like this make me think I'm not as crazy as I may seem. Any self respecting sociopath would have snapped that fat little mans neck right? They would have done that right? I didn't even have the slightest inclination, so I can't be crazy. Right?

As I read on the reporter continued interviewing Gordon about Batman. Gordon had no comment about that, saying that he had a psychopath to catch. The topic of psychopaths suited the reporter just fine as he went on to ask about the Scarecrow and Joker cases. Gordon said both of these were unrelated to what I had done, which was certainly the case.

Finally the article made mention of the little boy I had let slip away. Apparently the only thing the child could say when asked about who had murdered his family was the word stranger. The Gotham Times had decided to adopt the name for me. Couldn't have cared less, though I was glad it wasn't something silly like Batman or Scarecrow.

I arrived at my destination right on time to begin my workday. Wayne Tower is a truly magnificent building. A giant monolith in the center of Gotham City. It's breathtaking.

Up to the thirty-second floor I go. Programming. A very boring job, and lonely. It's almost entirely automated these days. The only other person on the floor with me most time's is Eddie Nigma. He's a nice guy, very smart. He's to easily intimidated though. He gets bossed around.

I spend the day hunched over in my small cubicle writing code for some new medical program. It's so strange because in Jersey we only wrote code for laser guided weapons, constantly evolving computer viruses, smart bombs, that sort of thing. Then all of the sudden I get transferred to Gotham and I'm writing code for MRI machines and car GPS devices.

Eddie and I finish halfway through the day and he asks me to help him write some code for his own personal use. I barely understand any of it. It's cryptic, almost like some kind of riddle.

I finally go down to the first floor for some lunch. There at the receptionist's desk she sits. Her name's Lauren. She is the physical embodiment of everything the media peddles as attractive. Strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, the angular face of a super model. Hideous…and sexy.

We exchanged numbers at the Christmas party a few months ago. I wasn't that interested in her then, I'm not that interested in her now. But everyday I walk by and see her...glutinous queen. Narcissistic. Mean. Loving everything cancerously, killing more people everyday than I ever have. Filling my soul with vomit. Bitter and dumb. You're awful…I love you.

She's draining me slowly, everyday like this. Corporate and cold, on a consummate search for the next score. You're a parasitic psycho, a filthy creature. Her body will end up being my coffin if I don't do something. I would most certainly have to kill her. She has the mark of the beast. She's born of a jackal. She's beautiful.

It won't be hard for me to learn where she lives, I have access to the entire computer system. I'll follow her home for a few days. See what her habits are, if she has any pets. I'll kill her for sure.

But not tonight. Tonight I have to go to the bar with Eddie.


	3. Chapter 3

I was correct in assuming it would be easy to find Lauren's address. She lived on the east side of town, down near the observatory. I watched her for over a week. She took the same route home everyday after work. Down to the 40th street station, then the blue line to the observatory station.

It would be easy enough for me to just push her onto the tracks. Maybe she would hit the third rail and be electrocuted. Or I could wait until a train was coming and throw her in front of it. God…that's crazy isn't it. I don't know why I think like this sometimes. I'm not crazy, I'm really not crazy.

But like I was saying, there would be no fun in doing anything of that sort. Such an impersonal way to kill someone.

I broke into her apartment over the weekend. It was sparsely furnished. A couch, A television, a few chair here and there. There were more things in her closet and dresser than in the rest of her house. And in her bathroom the floor and counter were littered with various beauty products.

She had neighbors of course. An old woman in the apartment to her right, a young couple in the unit to her left. What bothered me was who lived above her. He was a police officer, that was for sure. I had seen him putting on his gun and badge. But he wasn't a uniformed officer which led me to believe he was a detective.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how I would be able to play my little game without him noticing. I'm sure he would notice me crawling about on the fire escape, and if she screamed he would be the first to come running.

I finally came to the conclusion that I would just have to kill him as well. Not that I particularly wanted to. Killing a detective would most certainly attract attention. But I feel as if I can kill him, play my game, and then kill Lauren before any alarm is raised.

I call out of work, saying that I feel under the weather and telling the receptionist to give my apologies to Eddie. I put my suit on and take the blue line to the observatory station. I watch as the people get on and off the train, stuck in the boring routine of daily life. Never stopping to question anything.

Again I don't want you to think that I'm some cliché. I'm just like everyone else. I enjoy baseball, I watch Lost on Wednesdays, and I occasionally eat at McDonalds. Please don't think I'm like every other demented mental patient stuck in Arkham.

I arrived at her apartment building. It was the middle of the day so I thought a man walking up the fire escape would appear a little suspicious. Instead I took the elevator up to the detective's floor. I forced my way through the heavy apartment door. I was hoping he would already be here, but I must have just missed him because the coffee pot was still warm.

I unpacked my duffel bag. Axe, mask, knife, and this time a small hand drill. I stopped for a moment to look at my whit canvas mask. There was something about it that just didn't sit right with me. I searched the detective's home and found a needle and black thread. I used it to sew 

black rings around the eye holes and I even added a mouth. I liked looking at it when it was finished. Simple. Clean.

I started drilling holes in the floor of the apartment so I could play my game with Lauren when she got home. I made them big enough for me to see down into the apartment, but at an angle where she wouldn't be able to notice any of them.

The day grew longer and I had been finished with my work for some time. I drank some of the detective's cheap beer and read a book on the mindset of a killer. I recognized some of the things the book referenced in myself, but not enough to determine if I was a serial killer. I read the entire book.

I heard the locks start to turn around four in the afternoon. I scooped up my axe and waited behind the door. The detective walked in, groceries in hand. The beer cans must have alarmed him because he dropped his groceries and began reaching for his gun. Thankfully I was able to kill him before he got a shot off. I swung the axe harder than I meant too. The whole head of it got embedded in his chest and I really had to pull to get it back out.

I listened quietly for Lauren to get home. Around ten I finally heard movement down in her apartment. I was tired of being in this building. The detective was starting to smell. I only played with her a little while. I dropped notes with hello scrawled all over them down through her ceiling. I whispered down to her from the holes in the floor. I poured some of the detective's blood into her bathroom. I'm still surprised she didn't scream.

I crawled down the fire escape while she was preoccupied with cleaning her bathroom. I opened the window and walked around turning the lights off. She realized what was happening to late. She ran right into my arms. I lifted her up, hands wrapped around her throat.

I tossed her back into the living room. I think I may have crushed her voice box because she still wasn't screaming.

"Now, now. Don't do that dear, don't make this difficult."

I walked around her in a slow circle. Before she managed to crawl to the door I had picked her pack up in my hands. I stared at her hauntingly beautiful face. High cheek bones, refined jaw line. I'll soften those edges for you.

After I had hit her the third time I felt her body go limp. I let her drop and I followed her to the floor. I didn't hear the crunching of bone, or the gargle of her last breath. After a while all I was just pounding wet meat into the floor boards.

I finally stopped. I went her back upstairs and collected my things. The city was already on edge with these Batmen and these Jokers. A murder in the Narrows is one thing. However multiple homicide the suburbs and the middle of the city is quite another.

Tomorrow the city would be forced over the ledge.


	4. Chapter 4

These last few days have been…hectic to say the least. The city was in the midst of a major panic.

They had connected what I had done with the murders of the girl and the detective. The police department assured everyone that I, a vicious sociopath, would be brought to justice immediately. They told citizens to stay inside, only go out if it's an absolute necessity.

Lock the doors. Pretend you're safe. It doesn't matter to me.

God I think I'm losing my mind. That sounded crazy. Like something a mental patient would say. But I'm not insane. I'm a sad man. A sad, sad man. Yeah I'm a real sad man. Oh God. Have you heard the kind of shit that I've said?

There were reports that Jonathan Crane, or Scarecrow I guess is what he prefers nowadays, had been going into public places and using some sort of gas to murder dozens of people. The Gotham Times referenced one particular incident at a diner. Crane had spent a whole twenty-four hours there, forcing it's patrons to do horrible things to each other and themselves.

Then yesterday the Joker had robbed the Gotham Federal Reserve Bank. Well at least he staged a robbery. He engaged in dialogue with the police for hours, leading them on with bogus demands. What kind of mad man asks for a metric ton of fish?

Finally Commissioner Loeb ordered a SWAT team to tank the bank. The bodies of the hostages were strewn all over the bank, and as the SWAT team moved towards the vault they realized that Joker was gone. And that he had rigged the bank with explosives.

There were no survivors.

Everyone at Wayne Enterprises was invited to Lauren's wake and funeral. Even Bruce Wayne himself was there. Eddie and I both attended. I gave her mother and younger brother my deepest condolences. I then went to pay the girl my final respects. It was closed casket.

"Hey, hey there can you hold up a second?"

I turned around and Bruce Wayne was calling to me. I was moderately surprised.

"Mister Wayne, it's a pleasure to speak with you sir."

"Yes, yes. Jack right?"

I had never told this man my name. It was a little unsettling at first, but he did own the company so it makes sense that he knew my name.

"Uh, yeah. What can I do for you Mister Wayne?"

"Oh please, it's Bruce. I just wanted to tell you how everyone on the board has noticed the quality of work you and Nigma are doing down there in programming. My aides told me that the anti-hacker programming you designed is the best he's ever seen."

"Well…I mean that was mostly Eddie's."

It was all Eddie's. I don't know game he is trying to play.

"This is a tragedy isn't it?"

"Yes…it's just terrible."

"You knew Lauren didn't you Jack?"

"Somewhat. We exchanged numbers at the Christmas party, but it never went anywhere you know. I never even called her back."

"So the last time you saw her was Tuesday right? I mean you called in sick the day she was murdered didn't you."

"Yes."

Does he suspect me? How can he? But he must, why else would the owner of a company as large as Wayne Enterprises examine who called in sick the day that girl was killed? Calm down, he can't prove anything.

"So where were you?"

"Sick unfortunately, one of those twenty-four hour flus. But Eddie wanted to ask Lauren out for drinks, he just would never do it without me because he's a little timid. I've been thinking this whole week that if I had just come in she would still be alive."

"Maybe. Well I'll let you get going Jack. You and Nigma keep up that good work ok?"

"Yes sir Mister Wayne."

"It's Bruce."

He casually walked backwards away, raising his hand as a farewell. Charming.

I'm stressed, I need to go and do something. Need to get my mind off of work.

The Narrows. Such a terribly desperate place. There was a time, before the Batman, where not even the police would come here. But even with Batman here, it's still not a place anyone should have to live. I'll help them though.

I kill a whole floor of some apartment building. I think there were eighteen people. No wait, there were twenty. Or maybe there were more. God it felt so good to relieve all of that stress. So what if Wayne figures it out?

I'll kill him too.

I have work tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

"And it appears that the final death toll is six men, seven women, and nine children

"And it appears that the final death toll is six men, seven women, and nine children. Commissioner Loeb has said that a special task force has been created to catch the Stranger, but right now the residents of the Narrows are asking, where's Batman?"

So it was more than twenty. Eddie and I sat and watched the report over drinks, at an empty bar. After last night, most everything in Gotham shut down at sundown. I had my duffel bag with me. I fully intended to go back to the Narrows tonight.

It scares me, what I'm doing. But what scares me even more is that I like.

"Ok Jack, I think I'm gonna call it a night. You com…"

There was a crash as the door to the bar was kicked in. Six men stormed into the bar, all of them wearing clown masks. These men must work for the Joker. I play my cards close to my chest, I try to look as scared as possible. I took a lot of my cues from Eddie.

"GOOD EVENING EVERYONE!"

The smallest one was in charge, odds are he had a gun.

"Now listen carefully. I would like all three of you to please take out your wallets, watches, cell phones, and any other valuables you may have and carefully set them on the ground. NOW!"

I do as he says. He can have my money, I make more in a year than I really need. Eddie looks like he's about to piss himself and the bartender has tears in his eyes.

"HEY! You there, tall boy, what's in that bag?"

No, no, no. I couldn't let them have that. That was my life, that was who I am.

"It's nothing, just some gym clothes."

"Carl, go and check our new friends bag."

I tense up. They can't have it. Its mine. I wait until the man is right next to me. He opens up the bag and looks inside. He sees everything that is me.

"What the fuck?"

I wrap my hand around his wrist and take his knife before grabbing the man by the back of the head and slam it into the bar. I hear it crack and I hear blood spraying inside the mask, but I slam it once more to make sure he's dead.

"FUCK!"

I move faster than they expect. I rush through the other two thugs going straight for their leader. He's just about to pull out his gun when I drag the knife across his throat. I turn quick and stab another one of them in the stomach before throwing him across the bar. He smashes into a table and lays motionless.

I turn on the last one.

"Shit, shit, please. God please don't hurt me."

I throw a right cross that knock his teeth loose. Then another, and another. Before he falls over I lift him up over my head. I slam him down on to my knee. I hear his spine crack and I feel him go limp.

When I turn Eddie is staring at me slack jawed.

"Good night Eddie. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Y-y-yeah. Night Jack."

I grab my duffel back and get onto the subway. The yellow line, last stop the Narrows. I move up into a dark alley and get my mask and axe. My arm always feel more complete when the axe is in my hands.

There was a time when I would think that sounded crazy. But not anymore.

I hear screaming down the street. I move cautiously through the shadows, hugging the walls of buildings, avoiding streetlights. I still hear the screaming, but it's not coming from the streets. It's coming from inside the building I'm next to.

I begin to climb the fire escape. There are so many screams. I don't know why I'm going towards them. Mayhem isn't really my thing. But there are just so many.

The screams reach a crescendo on the top floor.

I look inside and see people clawing their eyes out. Parents strangling their children. Little brothers holding down and raping their older sisters. It's awful, like something straight out of Hell.

Then I see a man, seemingly unaffected by whatever is causing these people to go mad. He's a thin man, wearing little more than tattered rags. When he turns I see his mask. A simple burlap sack, and a noose around his neck. The Scarecrow. He sees me and strolls over.

"Hm, this is interesting. You're the stranger correct."

I nod my head.

"Doctor Crane I presume."

Scarecrow's head jerks and his fists clench.

"No, no, no, no, NO! Not Crane. Doctor Crane is out at the moment. But to the situation at hand, you have to find somewhere else to play. I'm conducting an important experiment right now, a clinical trial of a new gas."

We both stare up as we hear the flapping of heavy fabric and a thud on the roof.

"Oh my, it would seem that the Bat-man has found us. I have everything I need, I suggest you leave Stranger. Unless of course you want to end up in Arkham."

Scarecrow disappear into the shadows. My head tells me to do the same, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I grip my axe firmly and head to the roof. I open the door slowly, quietly. But when I look around I see nothing.

Then I feel two heels in the back of my head. I stumble forward and trip over some loose gravel. I hear heavy boots coming my way. I wait until he's close then I spring up, putting all of my momentum into the axe.

It catches him in the side under the arm. But it's no good. I here him grunt as my axe breaks in two.

He steps back and for the first time I get a good look at him. I can see why criminals would be scared of him. He's dressed all in black, with a long cape resembling wings. His face was hard and terrifying.

I rush towards him throwing my right fist at his face. A mistake.

It's my turn to grunt as he takes my wrist and breaks it. I feel the bone rip through the skin. I don't have anytime to recover as he lets loose a flurry of punches at my torso.

I can't get caught. I won't get caught.

I fight back. His body is heavily armored, but his face is still vulnerable. The action is short but it's intense. And it takes a heavy toll on my body. I have to use my broken wrist to deflect some of his shots.

I finally connect with a left hand that sends him to the ground. I grab the broken handle of my axe and pounce on him. I inch towards his face. Closer it goes. Closer. Closer. It takes everything he has to hold me. I headbutt him and feels his nose break. Almost there. Closer.

He must have reached something on his belt because all of a sudden I have gas in my face. I don't know what it is, but it burns. Tear gas maybe. Or mace. I feel a sharp pain in my leg, like I had been stabbed. I hear him running towards me. At the last moment I sidestep and grab him by his cape and hurl him off of the building.

I need to go. I need to go. I make my way down the fire escape, falling down the last set of stairs. I put my mask in my pocket and get onto the subway. I pull my sleeve up and look at my wrist. It's bad, but I can reset it and splint it up when I get home.

An interesting evening.


	6. Chapter 6

It's been a rough day.

I didn't sleep last night. The break in my arm was worse than I thought. It wasn't a bone in my wrist, the Batman had broken my radius. I took a look at my leg to. I dug something that looked like a throwing star out of my thigh. Filed down to look like a bat. How quaint.

What Scarecrow had done the night before was on the morning news. The police were saying he was experimenting with some new gas, something that made people behave more like animals than human beings.

I limped through the lobby, doing my best to avoid the notice of Bruce Wayne. I got up to programming and sat down to do what little work I had. Eddie was there to. I thought he might say something but he didn't.

I was about to leave for the day when the elevator doors opened up. Out stepped Bruce Wayne. He walked around examining the servers and such. I knew what he was really up here for.

"Hey there Eddie, nice to see you again."

"Oh, uh, hello Mr. Wayne it's nice to see you too."

"I was on my way out of the office and I realized that I had never been down here in programming before. And well I hear so much about how good you two are…I just had to stop by and check it out."

Liar.

"Well, as you can see, it's really not that much sir. Just me and Jack."

"Right…Jack. Nice to see you again pal."

No. It can't…he can't…can he? Wayne's hand is out waiting for a friendly hand shake to be reciprocated. No, no, no. This is just coincidence.

I grab his hand. He squeeze's mine. Hard. I can tell by the look in his eye's that he's studying me. Waiting to see the smallest indication of pain or discomfort. It take's almost everything I have not to wince. Jesus…for a rich playboy executive he's strong a bull.

I manage to grin and bear it.

"You to Bruce. I would love to stay and chat but I have to get going."

I move as quickly as possible to the elevator. Almost free.

"Hey Jack…you're leg is bleeding."

God damnit.

I close the elevator doors and am out of the lobby before anyone see's me. Down the street, still limping. I think the bleeding is getting worse. Just have to keep moving. But this van is in the way.

Before I know what's happening someone's hit me on the back of the head. I'm getting pushed into the van. I manage to kick one of my attackers square in the jaw. Then I'm on top of another, hands wrapped around his throat. He has a clown mask on.

"Jesus H. this guy is fast!"

"He's gonna kill Tommy!"

"Hit him with the tranqs. NOW!"

A sharp pain in my neck. I snap the man's neck before losing consciousness.

"Wake that piece of shit up."

I look up and see one of the most dangerous men in the city. Sal "Boss" Maroni. What's that smell? Chemicals?

"You are one ugly son of a bitch you know that? Pointy nose, pointy chin, sallow eyes. I should shoot you right in the horse looking face of yours for what you did to Tommy."

Instead he smacks me with the butt of his pistol.

"Maroni…I don't understand. You're the Joker?"

Him and his boys all have a good laugh at that one.

"Joker? Did I hear that right? Oh you mean that smartass little punk in the makeup? I hired that smug little prick. Handpicked him from a gang in the Narrows. He believed that little fuck the world anarchist punk BS a bit too much for his own good. Nobody robs a bank with MY money in it."

I can't help but laugh. This fat Italian slob had been using a dead man to throw heat off him for weeks. He had robbed other Mafioso's without having to start a war between the families.

"Oh you liked laughin huh? You think that's real fucking fun huh? Sal gimme your knife."

"Boss…what're you…"

"THE KNIFE!"

Some of the other thugs hold me still while Maroni goes to work on me. I keep laughing, spitting blood all over his suit. He slice's my cheeks halfway to my ears. One hell of a smile.

I think I passed out for a few minutes, probably from the blood loss. I'm hanging over a chemical vat now.

"You killed a lot of my men. Usually I would have a place for somebody like you. But you're a fucking axe murderer. You kill women and children. You're sick. Goodbye Mr. Jack Napier. So long you crazy bastard."

Falling now, a short one. I see my wallet hit the surface above me. I splash into the liquid below. It's thick, and it's sticky, and God it's dark.

I'm slipping in and out of consciousness. I'm being pulled somewhere. I'm running out of air. I'm burning, I'm on fire.

I hear seagulls now. I can breathe. No more burning, and my face doesn't even hurt anymore. I'm numb everywhere.

I get up. Heh. Heh heh. I'm alive. How funny is that? Hahaha.

I bend down over some water. It's cool and it feels good sliding down my throat. Hahahahaha.

Good God. What is that? Hahahahaha, heh heh. That's me. Heh hahaha, hoo hoo. What happened?

It looks like I'm wearing makeup. HAHAHAHA! I look like a clown. HOO HOO HOO! Green hair, red lips, and chalk white skin. HEH HEH HEH!

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"!


End file.
